


Battlefield Dressing

by WetSammyWinchester



Series: OhSam challenge fics [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Loss, Community: ohsam, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OhSam Triple Play 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8489389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WetSammyWinchester/pseuds/WetSammyWinchester
Summary: Brady's world was made up of baby wellness check-ups and annual vaccinations, not battlefield dressing and whiskey antiseptic.ohsam tripleplay challenge prompt: dorm room + brady + blood spill





	

The cut was small but deep, and the blood welled scarlet in his palm before dripping on the leg of his jeans. It was too bad because they were his favorite pair out of the two he owned.

“Jesus, Sam, we need to get you to the infirmary!” Brady ran a hand through his hair, unable to pull his eyes away from the gash.

“No. No doctors. It'll be fine. Just grab me a towel from the bathroom and the small black bag on the shelf in my closet.” Sam's years of experience dealing with traumatized witnesses and injured family members prepared him to deal with one freaked-out college roommate.

The greenish tint of Brady’s face didn't bode well for his future as a pre-med student, Sam thought, but he wasn't going to break it to him just yet. Brady's mom and dad were both doctors in Los Angeles - one worked in the ER at Cedar Sinai and the other as a thoracic surgeon at USC. Being a disappointment to your family and not going into the family business? Perhaps Sam had more in common with his frat boy roommate than he thought.

Walking into his dorm room that first day, army surplus duffle on his shoulder and thrift-store Converses on his feet, Sam was disappointed to find a blond-haired, blue-eyed Stanford legacy in the other bed. Probably a conscious decision by the administration to mix up the scholarship kids with the silver spoon crowd. Brady extended a firm handshake and a blinding smile as intro, and Sam gave a quick smile in return.

Pieces of broken glass still littered the dorm room floor from their collision earlier. The cheap cafeteria glass leapt from Brady's hand when they hit and Sam tried to catch it, but it danced just out of reach, smashing all over the floor. Without thought, Sam started to pick up the pieces by hand and pierced his palm. He sighed as he watched the blood spill on the floor. Just another scar to add to the story of Sam's life.

Brady handed him the black bag and then cupped the back of his hand, using the white towel to gently clean the wound. “Impressive reflexes, Winchester, you almost caught that glass in mid-air. You're always surprising me.”

His roommate said nothing when Sam poured salt lines at the window and door, and nothing again when he caught him drawing a ward on the back of their door. Brady didn't ask and Sam didn't say.

Opening up the med kit with one hand, Sam pulled out needle and thread. “Brady, I'm going to need your help sewing this back up.” 

“What the hell, dude, NO. Unless your family lives off the grid or are a bunch of criminals on the run, you go to see a doctor for something like this.”

Their eyes met, and Sam could see the question there, the one he couldn't answer. “Thought you were going to be a doctor, Brady. Sure you don't want a little practice?” 

He held the thread out again with a smirk and Brady blanched.

“Dude, I'm not sewing you up in our dorm room. You know that's just weird? Normal people don't do that.”

Brady's world was made up of baby wellness check-ups and annual vaccinations, not battlefield dressing and whiskey antiseptic. 

Sam sighed, and tucked the supplies back in his med kit, while Brady wrapped his right hand in a ratty t-shirt from the floor and pulled him upright, sweeping away the remaining glass on the floor with his foot. “Just watch where you walk, until I can clean this up. No more injuries for you, okay?”

A smile crossed Sam's face. “Anything you say, Dr. Tyson.”


End file.
